Here Jubal paused; for grim before him lay,Crouched like a lion watching for his prey,With blood-red eye of fascinating fire,Fix'd like the gazing serpent's, on the lyre,An awful form, that through the gloom appear'd,Half-brute, half-human; whose…
The following beautiful lines are by James Russel Lowell, though not included in the latest edition of his works: The snow had begun in the gloaming,
And busily all the night
Had been heaping field and highway
With a silence deep and white.
Every…
When Gen. Fremont proclaimed to the Rebels of Missouri, "their slaves, if any, are Free Men," millions said to each other, "This trumpet gives no uncertain sound." The eloquent Wm. H. Channing wrote joyfully to a friend: "My faith is that, as a…
Again, and oft again, thine image breaks
Upon the solitude of silent thought;
And ever as that blessed vision wakes, With such a tide of holy memories fraught, Earth, sense, and time fade from my spirit's sight, And heaven unbars her gates of…
I have left my husband I do declare,And have reason for to care --My bread to gain, one child to maintain,If I had the other then I'd count it gain.He is not tall nor very slim.If you see him once you'll know 'tis him. -Benjamin Hobart is his…
Spring was busy in the woodlands,
Climbing up from peak to peak,
As an old man sat and brooded,
With a flush upon his cheek.
Many years pressed hard upon him,
And his living friends were few,
And from out the sombre future
Troubles drifted…
Rejoice, ye fathers in Israel—Ye mothers in Zion, weep for joy!Awake, ye sons of Judah, and sing!Ye daughters of Jerusalem, shout—Shout: To Zion hath returnedThe ransomed of the Lord!
Years hath ye wept
Bitter tears: mournings and lamentationsFrom…
Our brother has fallen, his spirit has fledTo God who gave it. He sleepeth—not deadHe liveth in Heaven the city of God,Forever redeemed through Jesus the Word,He's fallen—weep not,—how happy his lot!Though fallen, yet risen—with us he is not.—He is…
We see not, know not; all our wayIs night: with Thee alone is day.From out the torrent’s troubled drift,Above the storm our prayers we lift,Thy will be done!
The flesh may fail, the heart may faint,But who are we to make complaint,Or dare to plead,…
The pines were dark on Ramoth hill,
Their song was soft and low;
The blossoms, in the sweet May wind,
Were falling like the snow.
The blossoms drifted at our feet,
The orchard birds sand clear;
The sweetest and the saddest day
It seemed of all…
